open, and the same woman who had shown herself so uncourteous just before, displayed herself this time in full, and cried. out, "Take him, take him; for he must be one of those wicked wretches who go about to anoint the doors of gentlefolks." Renzo determined in an instant that it would be a better course to make his escape from them, than stay to clear himself; he cast an eye on each side to see where were the fewest people; and in that direction took to his legs. He repulsed, with a tremendous push, one who attempted to stop his passage; with another blow on the chest he forced a second to retreat eight or ten yards, who was running to meet him; and away he went at full speed, with his tightly clenched fist uplifted in the air, in preparation for whomsoever should come in his way. The street was clear before him; but behind his back he heard resounding more and more loudly the savage cry: "Seize him! seize him! a poisoner!" he heard, drawing nearer and nearer, the footsteps of the swiftest among his pursuers. His anger became fury, his anguish was changed into desperation; a cloud seemed gathering over his eyes; he seized hold of his poniard, unsheathed it, stopped, drew himself up, turned round a more fierce and savage face than he had ever before put on in his whole life; and, brandishing in the air, with outstretched arm, the glittering blade, exclaimed, "Let him who dares come forward, you rascals! and I'll anoint him with this, in earnest." But, with astonishment and a confused feeling of relief, he perceived that his persecutors had already stopped at some distance, as if in hesitation, and that while they continued shouting after him, they were beckoning with uplifted hands, like people possessed and terrified out of their senses, to others at some distance beyond him. He again turned round, and beheld before him, and a very little way off (for his extreme perturbation had prevented his observing it a moment before), a cart advancing, indeed a file of the usual funeral carts, with their usual accompaniments; and beyond them another small band of people, who were ready, on their part, to fall upon the poisoner, and take him in the midst; these, however, were also restrained by the same impediment. Finding himself thus between two fires, it occurred to him that what was to them a cause of terror might be for himself a means of safety; he thought that this was not a time for squeamish scruples; 80 again sheathing his poniard, he drew a little on one side, re sumed his way towards the carts, and passing by the first, remarked in the second a tolerably empty space. He took aim, sprang up, and lit with his right foot in the cart, his left in the air, and his arms stretched forward. "Bravo! bravo!" exclaimed the monatti with one voice, some of whom were following the convoy on foot, others were seated on the carts; and others, to tell the horrible fact as it really was, on the dead bodies, quaffing from a large flask which was going the round of the party. "Bravo! a capital hit!" "You've come to put yourself under the protection of the monatti: you may reckon yourself as safe as in church," said one of the two who were seated on the cart upon which he had thrown himself. The greater part of his enemies had, on the approach of the train, turned their backs upon him and fled, crying at the same time, "Seize him! seize him! a poisoner!" Some few of them, however, retired more deliberately, stopping every now and then, and turning with a hideous grin of rage and threatening gestures towards Renzo, who replied to them from the cart by shaking his fist at them. "Leave it to me," said a monatto; and tearing a filthy rag from one of the bodies, he hastily tied it in a knot, and taking it by one of its ears, raised it like a sling towards these obstinate fellows, and pretended to hurl it at them, crying, "Here, you rascals!" At this action they all fled in horror; and Renzo saw nothing but the backs of his enemies, and heels. which bounded rapidly through the air, like the hammers in a clothier's mill. A howl of triumph arose among the monatti, a stormy burst of laughter, a prolonged "Eh!" as an accompaniment, so to say, to this fugue. "Aha! look if we don't know how to protect honest fellows!" said the same monatto to Renzo: "one of us is worth more than a hundred of those cowards!" 66 Certainly, I may say I owe you my life," replied he; "and I thank you with all my heart." "Not a word, not a word," answered the monatto: "you deserve it; one can see you're a brave young fellow. You do right to poison these rascals; anoint away, extirpate all those who are good for nothing, except when they're dead; for in reward for the life we lead, they only curse us, and keep saying that when the pestilence is over, they'll have us all hanged. They must be finished before the pestilence; the monatti only must be left to chant victory and revel in Milan." "Long live the pestilence, and death to the rabble!" exclaimed the other; and with this beautiful toast he put the flask to his mouth, and holding it with both his hands amidst the joltings of the cart, took a long draught, and then handed it to Renzo, saying, "Drink to our health." “I wish it you all, with my whole heart," said Renzo, "but I'm not thirsty: I don't feel any inclination to drink just now." "You've had a fine fright, it seems," said the monatto. "You look like a harmless creature enough; you should have another face than that to be a poisoner. "Let everybody do as he can," said the other. "Here, give it me," said one of those on foot at the side of the car, "for I, too, want to drink another cup to the health of his honor, who finds himself in such capital company there, there, just there, among that elegant carriageful.' And with one of his hideous and cursed grins he pointed to the cart in front of that upon which our poor Renzo was seated. Then, composing his face to an expression of seriousness still more wicked and revolting, he made a bow in that direction, and resumed: "May it please you, my lord, to let a poor wretch of a monatto taste a little of this wine from your cellar? Mind you, sir: our way of life is only so so we have taken you into our carriage to give you a ride into the country; and then it takes very little wine to do harm to your lordships: the poor monatti have good stomachs." And amidst the loud laughs of his companions, he took the flask, and lifted it up, but, before drinking, turned to Renzo, fixed his eyes on his face, and said to him, with a certain air of scornful compassion: "The devil, with whom you have made agreement, must be very young; for if we hadn't been by to rescue you, he'd have given you mighty assistance." And amidst a fresh burst of laughter, he applied the flagon to his lips. "Give us some! What! give us some!" shouted many voices from the preceding car. The ruffian, having swallowed as much as he wished, handed the great flask with both hands into those of his fellow-ruffians, who continued passing it round, until one of them, having emptied it, grasped it by the neck, VOL. XIII. - - 22 slung it round in the air two or three times, and dashed it to atoms upon the pavement, crying, "Long live the pestilence!" He then broke into one of their licentious ballads, and was soon accompanied by all the rest of this depraved chorus. PACK CLOUDS AWAY. BY THOMAS HEYWOOD. (From "The Rape of Lucrece.") [An author by 1596, died after 1640. A voluminous playwright, claiming share in over 200 plays, and author of long poems; but now known only by his songs.] PACK clouds away, and welcome day, With night we banish sorrow; Sweet air blow soft, mount lark aloft, Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing; To give my love good morrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast, THE TIMES OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS. By ZACHRIS TOPELIUS. [ZACHRIS TOPELIUS: Swedish poet, novelist, and historian; born at Kuddnäs, near Nykarleby, Finland, January 14, 1818; died March, 1898. Educated at Helsingfors. From 1841 till 1860 editor of the Helsingfors Tidningar (Times), in which many of his poems and novels were originally published. From 1854 till 1874 he filled various chairs in the university. His songs and lyrics have been collected in several volumes. His best-known dramas are: "Efter femtio år" (After Fifty Years), 1851, and "Regina von Emmeritz," 1854. His "Faltskärns Berättelser," 1853-1867, have been translated into English under the title "The Surgeon's Stories." His children's tales, "Läsning för Barn," have also been successful in English.] NUREMBERG AND LÜTZEN. WALLENSTEIN the Terrible had become reconciled with the emperor, collected a formidable army, and turned like a dark thundercloud toward the wealthy city of Nuremberg. Gustaf Adolf broke off his victorious career in Bavaria, to hurry to meet him; and there, in two strongly fortified encampments, both armies stood motionless, opposite each other, for eleven weeks—the panther and the lion, crouching ready for a spring, and watching sharply each other's slightest movement. The whole region was drained for the subsistence of these armies, and provisions were constantly brought in from a distance by foraging parties. Among the Imperialists, Isolani's Croats distinguished themselves in this work; among the Swedes, Taupadel's dragoons and Stålhandske's Finnish cavalry. Famine, the heat of summer, disease, and the depredations of the German soldiers spread want and misery everywhere. Gustaf Adolf, who, after joining Oxenstjerna's and Banér's combined armies, had a force of fifty thousand men, marched, on the 24th of August, 1632, against Wallenstein, who, with sixty thousand men, stood behind impregnable fortifications. Long before day, Torstenson's artillery commenced to thunder against Alte Veste. In the darkness of night, five hundred German musketeers of the White Brigade climbed up the steep heights, and, in spite of the terrible shower of balls, mounted the ramparts. For a moment victory seemed to reward their contempt of death; the drowsy foes' bewilderment, the shrieks of the women, and the Swedish balls, which threw |